Trials and Tribulations
by Scarlett Jaimie
Summary: So Scarlett felt shame after Rhett witnessed her in her state of dishabille that one night he brought her Pa home but how exactly did Rhett Butler feel after seeing her like that? My Glut of Smut 2010 entry.
1. Trials and Tribulations  Chapter 1

**A/N: After a couple of friendly and less friendly pokes I have managed to make a start with my long overdue Glut of Smut 2010 entry. Many thanks to Bugsie for handling some of the bad boys in this one. **

This was my prompt:

_"The night after the bazaar where Rhett brings a drunken Gerald to Aunt Pitty's and Scarlett greets him in her wrapper."_ (scenario submitted by isolabella)

**Trials and Tribulations**

_Chapter 1_

Gently, he brushed her hair to the side and without hesitation he opened the top button at the back of her nightgown. For a moment he regretted the fact that he could not read what was in her expressive green eyes but just as quickly he valued the advantage he had over her now. While he slowly but surely made his way down - the stream of tiny silk-white buttons seemed endless – he further mused on the fact that earlier that night a pair of much purer hands, servant hands, must have undertaken the task of closing the same long row. His own hands were steady; one would believe that this was daily business for him. In a way it was, but that was not to say that he was not affected by the woman in front of him. More profoundly than by any woman before her.

He remembered when he first saw her tonight in that gown. In his lifetime Rhett had experienced the joy of seeing women in various stages of undress and he was certain that by now he must have seen examples of every tantalizing bit of fabric a woman could wear, but this chaste little nightgown of thick, quality cotton seemed to be the most erotic garment he had ever seen a woman use to cover her skin. The hem reached as low as her ankles, showing him nothing more but a pair of delicate little feet. The long flaring sleeves covered most of her graceful hands and the little lace rim at the edge of the dress' collar reached all the way up to her square little chin. But he was not blind to the way the dress hung around her; every movement she made showed off her body's fine curves. And the best part was the modestly pleated front of the dress. Her bosom – which nobody would describe as modest – seemed to be accentuated by the sedate ruches. And for all its propriety the dress did not hide the way those breasts bounced at every move she made.

He had almost lost himself when his eyes had first caught side of that delicious little display and, never one to lose his reason, he had decided to test his own control tonight by opening every single button with studied patience. He did so in complete silence and she did not make a sound either, although her breathing became heavier and her ribcage seemed to go up and down with abnormal frequency. When he finally reached the last button - strategically placed at the extreme end of her spine – he could tell she was holding her breath, clearly anticipating his next move. Oh, it would be so easy now to push the dress down her shoulders, turn her around with one quick swirl and assault her mouth and body with equal resilience. But that would be too easy. He was selfish about his pleasures and had seldom felt this aroused by such simple gestures, but he was willing to stall the consummation of all that pent-up desire as long as was humanly possible.

Suppressing a groan that rose automatically in his throat when thinking of what he really wanted to do to her, he tenderly let his fingers disappear underneath the angelic ivory fabric that now hung agape. She shuddered at his touch but did not move. Her flesh was warm and he could feel his fingertips tingle when exploring the womanly softness of it. Gently massaging her back he gradually inched towards even softer territory. When his hands grazed the sides of her breasts she moaned softly. Momentarily losing grip on his restraint, he placed a searing kiss on the back of her neck. He felt her body react immediately and he took advantage of that by letting his hands move forward until his fingers encircled her warm mounds. This time he was not able to hide the groan that burst from his lungs. Before he realized what he was doing, he had the softest part of her in the palms of his large hands. He started to feel light-headed and the way Scarlett inched into his touch automatically made him more daring.

While kneading her gently but firmly, he nuzzled the back of her neck, the fragrance of her sending electric jolts of excitement through his own body. He closed his eyes, while he murmured sweet nothings – his lips still on her flesh. Scarlett sighed and he could feel her body grow limp against his. His hands traced lower; enjoying the gliding curve that formed the threshold between her ample bosom and her equally womanly hips. Several times he ran his fingers along her sides; her waist was so tiny, he was certain his hands could easily encircle it in its entirety. By now his manoeuvring had caused the dress to slip lower; most of her arms and upper body were now bare. His mouth wanted to kiss every inch of the exposed flesh; he started by leaving soft kisses on her round shoulders. She shivered and for a moment he worried that she might be cold, but when his hands caressed her belly – which was as sweetly feminine as the rest of her body– a soft sound escaped her mouth, making him understand that her quivering was borne out of ecstasy.

For a few moments he enjoyed taunting her by letting his long fingers go lower but stopping before he reached that part that he guessed by now was craving him as much as he was craving her. He took her by the hips and gently pushed her harder against his own body, showing her silently that she had a certain effect on him too. Holding her against him with one hand, he placed the other one horizontally against her belly. Then he changed direction and purposefully inched towards the most intimate part of her body. He interrupted his kisses for a moment, determined to have all his senses on alert for this moment. He briefly opened his eyes; convincing himself that he was indeed in Pitty's parlour and that this time around he was really enjoying more than a cup of tea with the widow Hamilton. He closed his eyes and smiled cockily; he had always known she would succumb to him in the end. Then he did not stall any longer and let his hand slide over her smooth skin until…

He opened his eyes wide and blinked. Then he closed them again, fighting to stay in that semi-unconscious state, but it was of no use. His body could not be fooled; his bedroom was bathed in sunlight and the birds were chirping merrily outside his window. He had already slept longer than he usually did. For a moment he stared at the ceiling. He could not believe he'd had that dream again. That dream that both elated and frustrated him. It never went beyond a certain point and so not even in his dreams did he get to know what sleeping with Scarlett would be like. Meanwhile she tortured him in his sleep as much as she did during his waking hours. How did he, Rhett Butler, man of the world, well-known philanderer, formerly convinced that he could have anything that money could buy, end up lusting after a girl that had barely come of age? And when he said lusting he meant wanting her so much that it interfered with the carefree life he had led so far.

How did it all start? If somebody knew the full story, they would say it had started in a rather grand library a little over a year before; but the small thrill that Rhett had felt at the time – at meeting a woman that was part of the old world yet as brazen as himself – would have certainly not been enough in itself to change the course of his entire life. However, it was this unexpected thrill in an otherwise boring county get-together that caused him to attend one of those uneventful charity balls that until that point he had managed to avoid like the plague.

The day of the Atlanta Bazaar he had been forced to visit a local doctor that went by the name of Meade, because the knife wound he had suffered in a port brawl the week before refused to heal properly. It was not the first fight he got involved in and he knew it would not be the last; something about his stature and possibly his demeanour caused others to seek him out. At least in the dog eat dog world that made up his society these days. He knew how to handle situations like that; being taller and bulkier than most of his classmates had taught him early on how to deal with spite and jealousy; expressed either verbally or physically. He had not realized that the man he dealt with last week had an equally vicious brother waiting in the shadows. That one had launched a cowardly attack on him; and for that he had paid with his life. Other than causing him some discomfort, that fight had not interrupted Rhett's last blockading run but the long journey to Atlanta – undertaken because Frank Kennedy had set him up with an affluent customer – had proven too much on the injury. He recognized the first signs of festering and so Belle Watling had directed him to the best doctor in town.

And so he found himself lying on Dr. Meade's examining table one afternoon, at the Confederate hospital where the good doctor spent most of his time these days. Dr. Meade confirmed Rhett's suspicions and treated the wound with a solution that caused an unpleasant, burning sensation.

'Iodine would have been easier on your wound, Captain Butler, but I am afraid we had to rationalize its use, so scarce it is these days,' the doctor said in a grave dry tone that very much reminded Rhett of his father's voice, whenever the old gentleman chose to preface his discourses with a practical example from the Scriptures. 'I do not wish to intrude on either yours or the other valiant sea captains' orders, but we must be aware that in times of war, medicine is just as important for an army as guns and harnesses are. And much more important than satins and lace, if I am allowed to add.'

The valiant sea captain's lips twisted into a smirk, but Dr. Meade had already finished the procedure and turned away, calling for a nurse to tend to the bandaging. While he cleared away the bottles with medication, he asked his patient if he was going to attend the bazaar that would be held that same evening.

Judging by the little speech the doctor had delivered, Rhett guessed that the rumours had spread across town by now. The doctor was clearly aware that the man in front of him was one of the most successful blockade runners the South possessed – therefore a wealthy man by all standards - and that it would be most convenient to turn a blind eye to Captain Butler's less than pristine reputation for the sake of the Cause. Rhett was deeply amused by this kind of hypocrisy; in times of peace a man like Dr. Meade would have looked at him with disdain but, now that the war had put his normal dealings in a more honourable light, the same doctor regarded him as a hero. But however entertaining a spectacle this was, he was not about to waste his night at yet another patriotic gathering. He declined the invitation with as much grace as possible causing the doctor to frown with disappointment.

Soon after, the door opened and an elderly woman entered the room. She was pale and thin, and with a look of faint indignation that, Rhett guessed, was etched on her face perpetually. She ignored his presence completely and addressed Dr. Meade, who swiftly turned on his heels at the sound of her voice, as if by long habit.

'Doctor, not one of our girls has come to do their duty today, on account of the bazaar. And this after Dolly enlisted them to help with the preparations for days in a row, without thinking of what it would do to the hospital. Sometimes, I swear she...'

'Now, now, Mrs. Meade,' the doctor tactfully interrupted her speech. 'Youth will naturally pursue its preenings at such hour, and our hospital will have to make do, especially today when we have a guest of honor in our city. I don't believe you've met Captain Butler, the famous blockader. Captain Butler, this is my wife. She will have to be your nurse for today.'

Rhett, by now sitting up on the examining table, still undressed from the waist up, greeted Mrs. Meade courteously and softly drawled that he couldn't have been put in better care. The little woman took one look at him and her demeanour changed immediately. The frown he had thought permanent on her face was replaced by a look he could only describe as flustered despite itself. Rhett guessed that the sight of naked men normally did not confuse the doctor's wife; surely in the past she had treated men in different stages of undress. However, he knew that his build was hardly that of the average man, and it gave him great amusement that even this so-called respectable woman – a grey mouse if ever he had seen one – was affected by it.

'Would it be more convenient for you if I lie down, Mrs Meade?' he asked, not waiting for her answer but stretching his long body out on the table.

This clearly disturbed the woman because a faint blush appeared on her pale little face. When she placed the bandage on the wound Rhett could see her fingers trembling and he grinned audaciously before assuming a more polite expression. Dr. Meade, unaware of his wife's discomfort, had returned to arranging the bottles in his cabinet. To hide her uneasiness, Mrs. Meade started to nervously chatter, soon falling back into the subject that had fed her earlier indignation.

'Now, Dr. Meade, would you believe that Mrs. Elsing and Mrs. Merriwether have asked Pittypat Hamilton and her nieces to attend the bazaar tonight? And Charles in his grave for only a year... Mind you, Pitty is only going to be in charge of the refreshments, in the back room, and Melly and Scarlett will replace the McLure girls—isn't it terrible what happened to Dallas?—and their booth is so withdrawn that probably no one will notice their presence anyway, but... I just don't think it's proper to ask them to attend such a lively function so shortly after Scarlett's husband passed away.'

Mrs. Meade nervousness seemed to have blinded her to the impropriety of discussing such topics in front of a stranger, and the doctor had gone from mild consternation to casting his wife increasingly displeased glances. At least Captain Butler didn't seem to pay any attention, his expression that of the most decorous indifference, as it befitted a gentleman.

'I know that there is no sacrifice too great for the Cause,' Mrs. Meade continued, oblivious to her husband's displeasure. 'We all have to do our part, and that's not what is bothering me. It's not even the fact that Pittypat and Melanie, though in mourning, will be there. After all, I am sure Melly only accepted this to help the glorious Cause her husband is fighting for in the snows of Virginia.'

Mrs. Meade could not avoid touching Rhett's abdomen every now and then while adjusting the dressing. This clearly disturbed her and Rhett would have found this all very entertaining had he been paying attention. But, despite his impassive face, his mind was keenly following the woman's monologue.

His interest had first been sparked at hearing that very uncommon name. Scarlett! Surely not many girls were given that name, could this be the same girl he had met at that barbecue more than a year ago? Even the name Charles Hamilton faintly rang a bell. And now to hear that she had married the fellow, who conveniently also happened to be Mr. Wilkes's brother-in-law. A rather desperate move in his eyes; but it appeared she had gotten out of her marital duties fast enough and now had a legitimate reason to be near the man she probably still desired. All very interesting news.

'No, it's Scarlett's presence at that function that bothers me. I can't believe Mrs. Elsing and Mrs. Merriwether asked a widow of scarcely a year to appear in public. And what's more shocking is that Scarlett accepted it... I am sure she has good intentions, but sometimes I just don't know what to make of her. I heard that only this morning she was waving at the soldiers that rode out to help the ladies collect the woodland decorations for the bazaar. And I certainly hope that this is just idle gossip, but they say she was at her bedroom wind—'

'Now, Mrs Meade, you are forgetting yourself,' the doctor finally interrupted her. 'You know what the old Romans say of Rumour, that swiftest of all evils. It sings alike of fact and falsehood. And as for Scarlett attending the bazaar, the widow of a Confederate soldier has one thing left, dearest than anything under the sun, and that is our Sacred Cause. It's only natural she'd want to help, for, besides her child, it is her only reward in this world.'

This discourse, that made it very hard for Rhett to keep his collected facade, seemed to finally make Mrs. Meade aware of her lapse in decorum. She blushed and hastened to repair the mistake.

'Oh, you are right as always, Dr. Meade. Forgive me, I do need to be more charitable towards her. And if Melly thinks it is proper, then it is. They will have such a quiet booth after all. Hardly anyone will notice they are there,' Mrs. Meade sighed.

Rhett's eyes started to sparkle. He couldn't imagine the spirited Miss O'Hara – Mrs. Hamilton now – being a wallflower, regardless of mourning or how quiet her booth would be. He would like to see for himself how that arresting young woman that had managed to hold the attention of every single man at that barbecue – including himself – would survive being forced into the role of the grieving widow. And it would be even more amusing to see her interact with the wife of the man she had so fiercely professed her love for.

His mind had been so adrift that he only realized that Mrs. Meade had asked him a question when her husband let out a polite little cough to draw his attention.

'Uhm, my apologies, what was that, Mrs. Meade?'

'I was wondering if you would be willing to attend our bazaar this evening. I know you are a busy man but perhaps you could find a little time to spare for our Cause tonight. Besides, we could do with a few extra men for the reel; with most of our boys away on the battlefields at the moment. It will be good fun and you might find that we have a few very nice articles on sale.'

Then she glanced over the hard body of the man in front of her and suddenly she realized that such a man would not set much store on embroidered pillows and knitted shawls. She also wondered just what Dolly Merriwether would think if this man asked her Maybelle for a dance. He just radiated a certain danger that, even with her husband present in the room, made her feel quite uncomfortable.

'Captain Butler has already declined my invitation; he is ready to set sail in the next few days and he…'

'Well, now that your charming wife insists that my presence is needed I might be swayed to attend after all,' Rhett quickly intercepted. 'It has been long that I got an invitation to a dance.'

He paused for a moment to give the couple time to recollect just why he had not been invited to dances recently.

'Besides, with so many of my fellow countrymen away, it is nothing but my gentlemanly duty to entertain the women they have left behind.'

He smirked with devilish glee, which made Mrs. Meade wonder just what exactly he meant by 'entertaining.' As if she was stung, she took her hands away from his body, deciding that the bandage was sufficiently in place. Smoothly Rhett got up from the table and after giving Mrs Meade another impudent grin, he quickly disappeared behind the changing screen. The Meades exchanged a worried look; Captain Butler had sounded nothing but polite, but somehow his remark about entertaining the ladies had made them feel uneasy.

And so Rhett had attended that bazaar where he and Scarlett O'Hara made an everlasting impression on all the other guests because he bid – in gold – for a lady in mourning who had the gall to accept such an indecent proposal and even dared to enjoy herself with the scoundrel of a man who made it.

During those few hours they were together at the bazaar, Rhett had decided that nobody in Scarlett's circle would be as suited for her as he was. He even said as much when he told her that one day she would say that she loved _him_ instead of that uninspiring hero that now occupied her dreams. Even later in life Rhett could not decide if it had been that beautiful smile she had given him when he entered the hall or the boldness with which she had accepted his dance proposal, but somehow he had become quite smitten with her as from that day.

It was with military precision that he planned his next move and he felt quite proud that his plan rapidly provided him with the access to Scarlett that he had wanted. All thanks to the gentle Mrs. Wilkes who seemed to believe in the goodness of mankind more than the average person. Meanwhile he had carefully inquired after Scarlett and her relatives and so far he had learned that the child she had given birth to was a boy named after one of the Confederate generals, that the staff of her household consisted of a few older servants of which only one man called Peter could provide a major obstacle, for it seemed that Melanie Wilkes and Scarlett Hamilton had to do without a male protector in their household; only an old aunt presided over the girls; an old aunt who was prone to bouts of bad health if he was to believe the rumours he heard. If Rhett Butler wanted to, he could charm the devil so he looked forward to worming his way into the beautiful widow Hamilton's life; the biggest challenge would lie in conquering Scarlett's heart not in gaining the approval of her family.

However, he reconsidered this when, a few days after the bazaar and before his second meeting with Scarlett could take place, his daily card game was interrupted by a stout Irishman who came to look for him in his favourite establishment.

''Tis a gentleman called Rhett Butler I am looking for, can you point me towards him?' the man inquired at the bar in a thick Irish brogue. Rhett glanced up from his hand to see who was looking for him, his hand unconsciously brushing the gun he was hiding under his vest, and he could tell right away that the man in question was agitated for some reason; his face was clearly flustered because of it. While the bartender pointed the Irishman towards him, Rhett wondered where he had seen this man before; because he was certain he had, he never forgot a face. Luckily he realized who the man in question was before he stood in front of him. He got up and bowed courteously, assuring the man that he was honoured to renew their acquaintance.

'We had the most interesting discussion, right before the war, Mr. O'Hara. I have always hoped that we would meet again to continue our conversation. Why don't you sit down, Sir? Maybe I could offer you a drink?'

Gerald looked disconcerted for moment; clearly he had not anticipated that the man who was leading his Scarlett into a pit would be glad to see him.

'Uhm, no, Captain Butler. I have not come here to share a drink with you," he said, glancing at the company that Rhett kept and eying the deck of cards on the table with more than a fleeting interest, a fact that didn't escape Rhett's notice.

The older man quickly remembered himself and cleared his throat to return to the thunderous tone in which he had inquired after Butler at the bar. 'I would like a word with you. In private, that is.'

'I would be most honoured, Mr. O'Hara. However, as you can see, I was just in the middle of something. Would you mind it very much if I finish this first? I have a feeling it won't take long. I don't mean to brag but I am a rather accomplished player,' he added in a lower tone.

Gerald's eyes started glimmering. 'Ah, like that, lad? Know a thing or two about cards myself I do. The best hand in County Meath I was. 'Tis a shame that this war and all the work at me Tara scarcely left me time for a game in months.'

'Well, if you want you could join me in the next game. I am sure that whatever it is you wanted to discuss can wait till later?' Sensing the man's hesitance, Rhett silkily continued, 'But I must warn you, Sir. I am sure you're the best player in green County Meath. In the whole of Ireland perhaps. But, as the gentlemen here can pledge, I never lost a game of poker. And I played across the two Americas,' he finished, showing his white teeth in a confident smile.

Gerald's face at those words reminded Rhett so much of Scarlett's expression whenever her anger was battling against her breeding and better judgment that he almost laughed out loud. The Irishman's conscience was clearly divided between the need to prove his worth and the task that had brought him today. Rhett guessed that one of the old cats had written Scarlett's mother about their little adventure and now it was up to her father to sort out the mess. Something he seemed reluctant to do.

If Rhett knew his type well, then Gerald O'Hara had the same fondness for liquor that he had for a gentleman's game of cards, and it wouldn't take long to pacify him. Any other man would have hesitated to lure the father of the woman he desired into indecent behaviour. However, Rhett had no qualms with this; he did not intend to become Gerald's son-in-law at any point. Yes, he desired Gerald's oldest daughter like he had desired no woman before her but his vague plans never went beyond having her as a mistress. One who would make his stays in Atlanta certainly more pleasurable. From what he had seen of Scarlett—the passionate nature she possessed, the rebellion she felt against all the things she had been taught—he was certain that he could easily sway her into a less conservative lifestyle that would prove favourable for both of them.

'Alright. 'Tis you that wanted to play against an Irishman. I'll beat you in one game. And then talk we will,' the older man finally decided.

Rhett nodded in complete agreement and courteously invited him to have a seat. Gerald immediately accepted his offer for drinks.

'Weaned on Irish poteen I was. A drink or two helps me game. But you, laddybuck, better take care with that whiskey.'

Rhett smiled a benign little smile as he poured his guest another glass. The drinks seemed to have untied his tongue and Gerald, far from the reprimand he had come to deliver, started to recount previous games he won and previous adventures he'd had at Court Day in Jonesboro. He even told Rhett how hard life had been on Tara lately; how he rarely had the opportunity to sit down with his neighbours and enjoy evenings like this.

'That reminds me, Captain Butler.. It has come to me attention that you have made me Katie Scarlett forget herself at that bazaar. Now, you seem like a nice enough gentleman but I can't have you taking advantage of me daughter like that, lad.'

Rhett expressed the proper amount of remorse and Gerald seemed satisfied with that for the moment; they both focused on the card game. At first Gerald did not think much of Butler's gambling skills. Despite a miserable set of cards, Gerald managed to beat him a couple of times. Soon he got a bit overconfident, aided by the liquor that now seemed to appear on the table as regular as clockwork. But by the time he started losing serious money, he had decided that Rhett Butler was a very nice fellow. He even agreed with Rhett at one point that his 'puss' was a rare girl. Proudly he proclaimed that she could jump fences that most men would not even dare to tackle. When Butler seemed impressed with that, he gave him a nice insight into the O'Hara marriage by telling him how it was his Katie Scarlett that had saved him from more than one embarrassing confrontation with Mrs. O'Hara; like any other man he enjoyed a drink every now and then and he could always count on his oldest child to cover up any overindulgence.

Rhett listened closely to the drunken man's ramblings. It certainly gave him a new perspective on the enticing creature that Mr. O'Hara's daughter was. Amusedly ,he decided that Gerald nickname for her was very suitable. Not only did she possess the most feline eyes he had ever seen on a human being; her general demeanour reminded him of that of a stubborn yet adorable little pet. _His_ pet.

When he had gotten Gerald thoroughly laced with drink he escorted him to the house on Peachtree that happened to be inhabited by his little pet and her relatives. He guessed that Scarlett – used to her father's drinking habits – would know how to bend the situation to her advantage. Yes, at first she would be annoyed with him because he had gotten her father drunk, but in the end she would be grateful; he guessed that the restrictive household that Scarlett grew up in was not a place she wanted to return to soon. Besides, getting her wound up would give him the opportunity to see those feline eyes spark again; something that thrilled him more than anything on this earth. He merrily joined Gerald in song when turning the corner of Peachtree Street.

To his great amusement Scarlett felt the need to come down and scold the both of them. However, he was unprepared for the rush of desire that coursed through his veins when he first laid eyes on her. In her agitated state she had neglected to retain her modesty and her body – free from restrictions under a thin wrapper that let the hem of her cotton nightgown show at the ankles – seemed even more appealing than it had been when he had first seen her in that green sprigged muslin dress that so charmingly accentuated her figure.

Despite the semi-darkness they stood in, she noticed his bold stare and his depraved thoughts immediately made way for a soft tenderness at seeing her virginal embarrassment. He wanted to assure her that it was alright; he was not going to take advantage of her in her state of dishabille but when she frowned and ordered him to bring her father inside he reminded himself that despite her adolescent age this feisty little lady was no kitten to be handled ungloved.

Despite her father's presence in the room he decided to forgo propriety and suggested that he should support Gerald up to his room; an offer made out of genuine concern but her reaction told him immediately that her mind had less purer thoughts. This amused him greatly and he could not resist playing a little wordgame when she asked him to bring him to the settee. She had such a riveting little personality and he adored her even more when she unwittingly disclosed to him that this was not the first time she covered up her father's drunken antics. She was all woman; all woman and she could handle any man, even him, Rhett was certain of it. His determination to have her in one way or the other grew as from then. However, it proved not to be an easy task. He did not mind; he always welcomed a challenge.

It was after this nightly encounter that the dreams started; lively dreams that he did not welcome. More than once he woke up in a state that he only remembered from his own adolescent years. Like a bee to a honeypot he flocked over to the widow's house after such nights only to be taunted and tested by her charming yet stubborn persona.

He vowed to find out what it would be like to lay with Scarlett, no matter how long it would take him. In the meantime he had to find ways, beside the blockading trips, to keep his mind occupied and his fantasies restricted to short moments of daytime dreaming.

**A/N: OK, unfortunately the beast that is Rhett Butler got out of control again, so this will probably take 2 more chapters before it is done. I hope to post them here a.s.a.p. **

**If you get bored waiting, why not check out the amazing blog that iso and Bugsie have created (my favourites: delicious Southern cuisine and entertaining explanations of the many quotes made by the oh so eloquent Captain Butler).**** You can find it at: www dot gwtwscrapbook dot blogspot dot com**


	2. Trials and Tribulations  Chapter 2

**A/N: As always thanks to Bugsie for being so pleasantly opinionated ;-)**

To keep his mind off Scarlett and the ever present need for her, Rhett tried several options.

The first one seemed the most logical; he had sweaty teenage-like erotic dreams and so a bit of physical exercise, of the most pleasant kind, would easily deal with that. In any town he visited he knew his way to the best brothel, but somehow he had neglected that bit of gentlemanly entertainment ever since he'd gotten reacquainted with Scarlett. So one night he stopped by Belle's for more than their friendly drink. He enjoyed himself and he made sure she found the encounter equally pleasant. When he got dressed afterwards he felt satisfied. This assured him that a little tumble in bed with an attractive woman was all he had needed to get rid of this burning itch, the constant burning itch that spending time in Scarlett's presence made him feel.

But he had just put on his hat and was ready to leave the room when a girlish laughter, drifting down the hall, put him right back to square one. The woman's melodious voice reminded him of Scarlett. Every now and then her annoyance with him made way for hearty laughter; she would toss her head backwards, exposing the white flesh of her long gracious neck, and her red lips would reveal a perfect row of white teeth, as the sounds escaping them seemed to caress his ears like a sweet melody. He longed to make her laugh like that more often; he was certain that he could. Once all the obstacles were out of their way, they would spend many moments playing and laughing. Of course they would have the occasional squabble as well, it was inevitable if you paired the two of them, but in the end they would always return to being friends. Or lovers.

Rhett had long left the plush establishment, and when he finally stopped musing, he realised, to his great annoyance, that he had gone the wrong way; instead of returning to his hotel, his feet had taken him in the direction of Peachtree Street.

'Alright, this is enough,' he said to himself, feeling foolish. 'If I cannot cure this ache by laying with a woman I will have to find other ways,' he thought. 'It is too late in the evening now, but tomorrow I will visit the special poker room at Belle's place and I am certain that the rush a freshly acquired pile of dollar bills always gives me will take care of all this silliness.'

'_Rhett, please, I...' Rhett, whose face had been buried in Scarlett's fragrant hair, lifted his head at hearing her sweet voice carrying such a desperate note in it. His heart thundered while he turned her around. The pale skin of her breasts emerged from between the now opened folds of her gown. After covertly taking those in, he looked into her green eyes. They were smouldering with unfulfilled passion and he knew that what she wanted was him. All of him. _

_He looked at the bed behind them, decked out with sober virginal sheets. He would lay her on them, free her body of any remaining fabric and then he would make love to her slowly and tenderly, yet with unmistaken passion. Afterwards she would know that it was him she was meant to be with, and all the silly games they had played so far would be something of the past. _

'_What is it, Scarlett? You can tell me, my pet, there is no need to hold back.' _

_She cast her eyes downwards and then she hesitantly lifted her hand and stroked the black hairs that covered his chest. He shuddered while exhaling. _

'_It is just, Rhett... You see, I never thought I would feel this way. That I would want a man to... to do the things that you do. I... I don't know if I should feel this way.' Her cheeks grew crimson and he smiled gently at her. _

'_Does it feel wrong, Scarlett? Be honest with me, honey.'_

'_No, I mean, yes... Oh, I don't know.' He brought her closer so that her nipples were touching his skin. He gazed into her eyes for a while; she looked like a child that had just discovered one of the many wonders of the world. _

'_Is this wrong, Scarlett?' he whispered before he let his lips touch hers for a brief moment. _

'_No,' she sighed. _

'_And this?' His fingers brushed her hair out of her face before he cupped the back of her head into his large hand and brought her in for another kiss. A more powerful kiss this time that ended with him briefly sampling her mouth. Something she responded to with eagerness. _

_He looked at her again. She seemed dazed for a moment, as if she was not certain of where she was. Then she returned to this dimension and the hazy look in her eyes made way for a different one. This was not the look of an innocent child; this was the look of a woman. A woman that knew what she wanted. Then she gave him a knowing smile before her own hand reached behind his head, and she kissed him with as much boldness as he had kissed her moments before. He felt like he was flying for a moment; soaring victoriously like only a lover could._

_Then he remembered the location of the bed in the room and purposefully started shuffling them towards it, their mouths still entwined in a dance of their own. _

'_Scarlett,' he murmured against her lips. _

'Scarlett,' he said again, his eyes now open. He had made it to the bed, he could feel the soft sheets under him but this was not how it was supposed to be. He was alone in the luscious bed that his hotel room provided.

'Goddamnit!' he cursed loudly.

Later that morning he got himself dressed and ready for a little get-together that Mrs. Wilkes had organised for young Wade. He was fond of Scarlett's son; he had taken to him the moment they met. He enjoyed playing a father role in the boy's life especially since he noticed that his mother – young as she was – had some trouble adjusting to her new role. Mrs. Wilkes provided the boy with the kind of care that only a mother could provide, and Rhett was conceited enough to believe that he provided the child the protective force only a father could bring. Moreover, Scarlett seemed to welcome the diversion he brought little Wade. Rhett suspected that she was secretly glad that he took the young boy off her hands once in a while. He was mildly flattered that she trusted him with this task.

But after the frustrating dream he'd had that night, he was in no mood to play nice; he found more joy than usual in making snide remarks that left Scarlett flustered and angry. After Mrs. Wilkes had taken Wade upstairs and Miss Pittypat had decided that she could use a nap as well, he found himself alone with Scarlett in the parlour that formed the background for most of his dreams. He quietly finished his cheroot while Scarlett tidied the living room, bending down to pick up the few toys that Wade possessed – most of them a gift from his Uncle Rhett - from where he had left them on the floor.

She was dressed in the usual widow black, but she had been bold enough – for his sake, Rhett hoped – to decorate that dress with an artificial rose. A red velvet rose she had pinned right above her chest and which seemed to accentuate the red of her lips. Rhett had already had a few moments that day in which he stared at those lips and wondered how they would feel against his own mouth. He despised her black gowns, but this particular one had its advantages: the basque encircled her upper body in a very enticing way and the skirt flowed around her behind in a most charming manner. Every time she bent over to grab something from the floor he inhaled his cigar more deeply while his heart started racing. He could literally feel his hands itch, but on the outside he remained cool.

'Why don't you sit with me for a while, Scarlett?' he asked, his voice somewhat deeper than normally.

Immediately she stood erect, and before she even spoke he could tell by the fiery look in her green eyes that she had not forgiven him for his earlier teasing.

'Now why would I do that, Rhett? Only so that you can mock me a little bit more? Well, no, thank you,' she said before she threw her hair back loftily and continued her chore.

'Oh, come on, Scarlett,' he said while getting up, 'surely you did not take my remarks seriously. You find these gatherings as boring as I do; I was merely trying to liven the afternoon up a little.'

He had come to stand close to her and when feeling his presence nearby she immediately straightened up. Was it just his imagination or could he see her ample bosom move faster the closer he stood to her? He smiled a predatory smile, but Scarlett assumed he was just ridiculing her some more and she went off in a fury about what a varmint he really was.

He had heard it all before and the words flew past him, but he did enjoy the little green arrows her eyes seemed to shoot at him and the rapidly increasing flush on her alabaster skin. God, she seemed to grow more attractive by the minute.

He ignored her rant and, with light fingers, he caressed the red flower that adorned her dress. Then he stared deeply into her eyes; letting a small part of his passion for her show in his own eyes, something that clearly unsettled her.

'Believe me, Scarlett; my little quips helped you through what would have been another boring afternoon with Mrs. Wilkes and Miss Hamilton. I am sure you hardly noticed what mind-numbing stories they were recounting because you we so busy getting annoyed with me. I believe I did you a favour, Mrs. Hamilton,' he said with a crooked smile.

'Ooh, you are impossible,' Scarlett grumbled before she took a step away from him.

'Yes, that might be, but I am sure you will welcome me with open arms the next time I call on you. Which will be soon, my dear,' he added in a low velvety voice. Then he grabbed her arm lightly, gently reeling her to place a soft kiss on her forehead, and, before Scarlett had the presence of mind to protest, he had grabbed his hat and was out of the door, without so much as a word of goodbye for her or the other two ladies.

Rhett's wins that night were impressive; the men who had joined him for drinks afterwards were in a festive mood because of it, and, although Rhett smiled at them pleasantly, he did not seem to be as delighted with his victory as he would have normally been. He knew the reason for that; no amount of money in the world could be a substitute for the kind of fulfilment he longed to find in Scarlett's arms. At one point the shouts of the men around him became too loud, the whiskey fumes in the bar too sharp and the card game too trivial, so he got up and left.

Dressed for bed – without a stitch on, as the expression goes – he hesitated for a moment before he finally moved under the covers; would he find the solace of sleep or would he be subjected to another torturous fantasy? On the one hand, his dreams brought him closer to Scarlett than real life ever could. On the other; they haunted him during the day up till the point that he risked losing his cool with her. He had not lost his nonchalance with any woman since the age of sixteen and he was not about to start now. He pondered for a while about the question how a Georgia girl like Scarlett could bring him so close to the brink of madness before sleep finally claimed him.

'_Rhett, we can't, it's, ooh…' He let his teeth graze her pale breast slightly before he took one of her sensitive nipples in his mouth, causing her to relinquish the half-hearted protests. He flicked his tongue expertly around the sensitive area and he felt a heady joy when she arched her body towards him, clearly wanting more than he had to offer now. It was at that moment that a gush of wind coming from the opened balcony door blew out the one candle in the room, but he continued unperturbed; after all, he could find his way around her body blindly. He knew her better than she knew herself and he was about to prove it. _

_His mouth left the succulent softness to explore other areas. When he drew lazy circles around her belly button she became impatient and with her tiny hands she tried to force his head down. _

'_All in good time, my darling, all in good time,' he murmured against her skin. He did not know if she had heard him at all. As it was, her impatience did not subside; her legs started kicking against the sheets, leaving them in disarray. Smoothly he let himself slide back up next to her. He propped himself up on one arm and silently gazed at her. In the darkness he could make out the contours of her face and he could see how she opened her eyes, probably puzzled at his sudden desertion. _

'_Rhett?' she said, her voice sounding endearingly uncertain. 'Rhett?' she said again, her voice more firm now; a hint of annoyance apparent in it. Her long fingers reached for him and she gasped quietly when she touched the hairs that covered his chest. _

'_Patience has never been your virtue, Scarlett, has it? Well, tonight I will teach you to be patient; I will teach you that and so much more,' he said while his head bent over her. She giggled when his moustache tickled her mouth. And she alternately kept giggling and moaning while he skilfully explored every little detail of her body. And while he did so, her body seemed to grow warmer by the minute. By the time he had reached the creamy softness of her hips, her skin seemed to glow under his touch and a pleasant musky scent told him that she was as ready for him as she would ever be. Only moments now and he would finally be able to let himself plunge into the sweetness that was her. He closed his eyes for moment before he lifted himself into the right position. She giggled nervously and he softly caressed her head murmuring reassuring words at the same time._

'_It will be alright, my pet. Nothing to be frightened about...' _

Despite being alone, Rhett had never before felt as embarrassed as he did that morning, when he woke up fumbling the spare pillow in the most awkward way.

'I should leave this town. I should leave this town and forget about her before she drives me completely insane. God, now I am talking to myself too,' he said reaching into his tousled hair in agony. 'Yes, that is what I'll do; I will telegraph the crew today that they should prepare for another trip.'

With a determined mind, he left his room, but somehow his plans changed and by seven o'clock that evening Rhett Butler could be found in one of the better saloons of Atlanta. By that time he had lost count of the brandies he had; he just knew that the barman had left the bottle standing on the bar for him and the night passed in a blur. The good news was that that same night he did not dream of the green-eyed beauty, the bad news was that he woke up with a terrible headache and a dull ache in the area of his abdomen; he vaguely recalled getting involved into a brawl, but he could not for the life of him tell if he got hit in the spot where the knife wound was slowly but surely healing. When he checked the area, he noticed that it looked a bit red and irritated, but he did not give it much thought.

That day he did wire his boat crew and this made him feel like he was taking charge of his own life again. After running a few other errands, he sank down gratefully on the leather sofa in his room; last evening's shenanigans were still taking a toll on him. He decided to close his eyes for a few minutes.

'_Please, Rhett. Please! I need you. I need you now.' He could not see her, but he could feel her wriggling under him, desperate to have him. And he did very much want to oblige, but, every time he tried to touch the warm body he felt pressing into him, his fingers reached nothing but cold sheets. _

'_Rhett, please, I can't wait. Rhett!' He could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his heart was racing at such speed it was actually becoming painful to breathe, his hands prodded and prompted the area underneath him with frantic agility, but she was not there. He heard her moan in his ear, he felt her body - hot and receptive - against his own skin, but no matter what he tried he came up with nothing. _

And that was the way he woke up, groping and grabbing under him. He only vaguely realised he was still lying on the large sofa in his room, because this time Rhett Butler had trouble shaking the haunting yet tantalizing dream. His mind was still partially in trance and it remained that way when he exited the National Hotel, only softly humming a farewell to the receptionist who was used to Mr. Butler's jovial greeting and frowned at seeing him so preoccupied.

He could not recall how he got there, but Rhett found himself standing in front of Scarlett's home on Peachtree Street in the middle of the afternoon. Without worrying about Scarlett's chaperons, he started banging on the door. First at an even pace, but soon his knocking became rather frantic. It was Uncle Peter that opened the door, clearly disturbed by Captain Butler's unannounced visit.

'Miss Pittypat aint home, Sir,' he said, his lips twisting in a disapproving grimace.

'I need to see Sca…, er, Mrs. Hamilton,' Rhett replied, equally curt.

'Well, afraid you can't, Sir. Miss Melly aint home either, she's at the hospital. They all are; Dr. Meade called them all in.'

'So Mrs. Hamilton is at the hospital too?' Rhett said, his back already half towards the opened door.

Uncle Peter's eyes flickered briefly before he told Rhett that yes, Miss Scarlett was not at the house either. Rhett, aware now that the man was lying, quickly stepped past him, taking the old servant completely by surprise, and was already halfway to the parlour when he said lightly that he would wait for the ladies to return.

Uncle Peter was furious and did his utmost to get Rhett out of the house – it was after all his duty to protect Miss Pittypat and the younger women, being the only man in the house as he was – but Captain Butler made himself comfortable, and Uncle Peter worried that it wouldn't take long for Miss Scarlett – who had claimed to feel under the weather that morning – to become aware of this unwanted visitor.

'So, Uncle Peter, I do admire your protective nature and therefore I am willing to overlook your little fib this afternoon. However, I am a busy man and I would like to have a word with Mrs. Hamilton. Would you be so kind as to inform her of my presence?'

'I aint doing no such thing, Sir. If Miss Pittypat found out that I let you see Miss Scarlett by herself, well, she would just…'

Rhett waved his hand impatiently.

'Leave Miss Hamilton to me, surely she won't mind an old acquaintance calling in on a sick friend?' He lifted his eyebrows. 'I gather Mrs. Hamilton was not up to doing her bit for the Cause today due to some sudden illness?'

If possible Uncle Peter's frown deepened. But then his face cleared up.

'That's right, Captain Butler, Miss Scarlett aint feeling well. She is resting and so she can't see any gentlemen right now.' Peter walked to the doorway of the parlour, indicating with a little nod of the head that he expected the visitor to leave now.

Rhett made no move indicating such intentions.

'I feel for the unfortunate Mrs. Hamilton, however, my business with her is of such importance that I am sure she would be willing to leave her sickbed, if only shortly. Would you be as kind as to inform her that I have obtained a piece of information in a library some time ago that I want to discuss with her in private before I consider making it public?'

'Whatever it is, Sir, it will have to wait. Mistah Gerald would never forgive me if…'

Rhett, in desperate need to see the object of his desire, lost some of his calm and stood up, a frown now on his normally smooth features.

'Look, Uncle Peter, I hate to inconvenience you like this, but surely you do realise that I would have not taken time out of my busy schedule to come and see Mrs. Hamilton in person if my affairs with her were not of such an urgent nature.'

Uncle Peter started feeling uneasy. Captain Butler's tone could not have been more polite, but he sensed the other man's straining temper nonetheless. However, the old man stood his ground and informed Rhett once more that he could not see Scarlett that day. Rhett's normally controlled demeanour seemed to evaporate, and old Uncle Peter shuddered when the hefty man approached him.

It was quite unexpected when his large frame suddenly bent double. Rhett held on to his stomach and let out a sharp cry.

'Uncle Peter, who is that?' Scarlett, alerted by the shouting downstairs, called from the top of the staircase. But Peter did not respond, since Captain Butler grunted with distress once more and looked ready to drop to the floor.

'Captain Butler! Sir! Are you alright?' Uncle Peter yelped. He managed to get Rhett back onto the couch, having to use all his strength to keep the huge man upright.

'Uncle Peter? Rhett!' Scarlett had run downstairs and gasped when she saw the man that usually radiated strength sitting on her settee; his features paler than usual, his bulky frame practically bent double with pain.

She had not made the effort to get dressed that morning, claiming illness, and so she was still dressed in her nightgown and wrapper, but only Uncle Peter noticed this indiscretion. Scarlett herself was too preoccupied with her unexpected visitor to take this into account.


	3. Trials and Tribulations  Chapter 3

'Rhett! What is the matter with you? Are you wounded?' The concern in Scarlett's voice made Rhett look up into her face. The pain was subsiding now, but he still held on to his belly while he tried to breathe more evenly. The area around the former knife-wound still felt very tender, but the sharp ripple he had felt while arguing with Uncle Peter was gone now. He was genuinely touched by Scarlett display of sympathy, but at the same time he realized that this turn of events could be used to his benefit.

'What is the matter, Rhett?' she said gently when he failed to respond to her first plea.

'Whatever ails the gentlemen, you should let me and Cook look after him, Miss Scarlett,' Uncle Peter said with authority. 'It aint fitting for you to be seen in your night dress. You go back upstairs and I will…' Peter abruptly stopped talking when he caught Scarlett's glare.

'Captain Butler is a close friend and I will decide who I shall and shall not see under my own roof, Uncle Peter,' she said sharply. 'So keep your opinion to yourself, thank you very much.'

'But Miss Scarlett, if Mister Gerald ever found out that I let you receive a gentleman in this state, he would…'

'And who is going to tell him, Peter?' She gave him a long stare and when she was certain she had made her point clear, she turned to Rhett who was still holding on to his belly with one of his large hands.

Gently, she pushed his hand aside and she frowned when she noticed a red spot on his white shirt.

'You are hurt!' she exclaimed and Rhett was surprised to discover that he had indeed lost some blood.

'Oh, don't worry about it, Scarlett. It is just an old wound that is playing up again, I am sure I will be fine in a minute.'

'An old wound?' Scarlett's eyes grew big. 'When, how…?' Then she got up and placed both hands on her hips. She was the epitome of the scolding wife and Rhett could not help but grin.

'Don't tell me you were foolish enough to confront some Yankees on your last blockading trip. I thought you told me that you never took such unnecessary risks?'

Normally, Rhett would have been the first to admit that his knife-wound was in no way related to dangerous blockading, but he had come here with a purpose. Needless to say that he was a strong advocate of the saying 'all is fair in love and war,' and, since he happened to find himself in both circumstances, he figured his soul would not be further damned if he embellished on the truth a bit.

'Well, most of the time I don't,' he said with a grave face and then remained silent; thus allowing Scarlett to draw her own conclusions.

'Well, you are a fool, Rhett Butler, to get caught up in that silly war; I always thought you were the one man that had better sense than that.' Her outburst amused Rhett greatly; trust Scarlett to scold a man for a heroic act.

They had both forgotten Peter's presence in the room when the man in question suggested that they should call for Dr. Meade.

'Oh, I am afraid you will have to drive Mr. Butler to the hospital yourself, Uncle Peter,' Scarlett said. 'You know as well as I do that the doctor has several severe cases to attend to and won't be able to leave. Let's hope he can find some time to help you, Rhett.'

Rhett, seeing his hopes of a little private time with Scarlett dashed, got up with some difficulty and announced that such effort would not be necessary.

'I am sure it is nothing, Scarlett, but if it means that much to you, I will just jump on my horse and go see Dr. Meade.'

'Horse?' Scarlett cried. 'Surely you don't think that I'll let you ride in the state you are. No, Uncle Peter here will drive you and…'

'Scarlett, I have suffered worse and still managed to get myself to a doctor. This won't be any different.'

'Suffered worse?' Scarlett said with big eyes. 'Why, you never told me. Oh, to think I called you a coward while...'

She did not finish her sentence, but she regarded him with something that resembled adoration and for once in his life Rhett was lost for words.

'Well, Rhett, since you are so stubborn; let me at least have a look at your wound. After all, I am a nurse.'

'Yes, you would be my choice of a ministering angel anytime,' Rhett murmured sarcastically, but neither Scarlett nor Peter seemed to hear him since the latter was now trying to convince Scarlett to get old Mr. Hamilton to tend to Captain Butler. However, Scarlett was adamant.

'Henry Hamilton is not a doctor, so a whole lot of good he will do. Go to the kitchen, Uncle Peter, and get me some water on the boil and don't you dare return without it!'

With stung pride Peter left the room and, as soon as he shut the door behind him, Rhett started unbuttoning his shirt.

'Just what do you think you are doing?' Scarlett said, taken aback.

Rhett looked at her innocently. 'How else were you going to assess the damage, Scarlett? Surely while working in that hospital you must have seen your share of a man's naked flesh.'

'Uhm, yes, of course,' Scarlett murmured, blushing slightly, before she straightened her spine and told him in her most authoritative voice to lie down on the rug in front of the settee.

With ease he stretched his long body out on the carpet and subsequently opened the now unbuttoned shirt widely to give Scarlett access to the wound. It had not been his plan to be the first one to undress, but they had to start somewhere. He wiped the grin off his face quickly, though, when he saw Scarlett frown at him.

Scarlett tried to act professional when she sat down beside him, but he noticed her nose twitch when she examined the wound. He had a quick glance at it himself; the upper-part of the stitched wound seemed to have risen open again – due to last night's fist fight, most likely – the gaping wound resembled something one could usually find at a butcher's. It certainly was not a pretty sight, and he was not at all surprised that his pet's bravado had momentarily deserted her.

So much for his plan of seduction; he had hoped that the next thing he would be unbuttoning was her nightgown, but that hope was dashed now.

'Shall I take myself to the hospital after all?' he asked, giving her a chance to get out of her nurse duties.

He could see the struggle on her face; on the one hand, everything inside her wanted to say yes, but pride did not permit her, so in the end she told him stiffly that it was not necessary. Uncle Peter brought the hot water – frowning disapprovingly at the display of a bare-chested Captain Butler in Aunt Pitty's parlour - while Scarlett retrieved her sewing basket.

Rhett got a brief glimpse of some silky yellow fabric that looked eerily familiar; was that not the little gift he had brought her from Havana? When he noticed that Scarlett pulled out a roll of silk thread he had another déjà-vu: Only some time ago he had provided the hospital with such rolls to replace the lacking suture thread and so he wondered if Scarlett had 'borrowed' the roll to use it for less noble purposes. What treasure was she working on so diligently?

Unaware of Rhett's musings, Scarlett prepared needle and thread to stitch the gaping part of the wound back together again. Like a true matron, she dismissed Uncle Peter with one stern nod of her head before she moved to sit near Rhett to begin the procedure.

She used a mean solution to clean the wound first, water and the borrowed content of Pittypat's swoon bottle, but Rhett did not make a sound. The less than pleasant sensations were reasonably compensated by Scarlett's close presence. He could feel the cotton of her gown brush against his naked skin, the warmth of her body radiate against his own flesh and he particularly relished the feel of her thigh against his. While she cleaned the wound, she also brushed the healthy skin around it and somehow this created an intimacy between them that unsettled him. Scarlett did not seem unaffected either; he saw her glance at his naked chest through her long lashes and immediately a pink flush crept from her neck up to her face.

'This will hurt a little,' she said, quite needlessly, before she started prodding his skin with the sharp needle. Rhett tried to ignore the little jabs and concentrated on Scarlett's face which showed pure concentration. Despite the discomfort, he rather enjoyed having her so near; her fragrance was quite bedazzling. He wanted to bet that needlework was not one of her favourite pastimes and he was therefore surprised how swiftly and efficiently she closed the wound. All too soon she cut the last part of the thread, wiped the area clean, dressed the wound and then she moved away from him to wash the needle in the leftover warm water that was on the ground next to her

'Nurse, do you think this will hold or do I need to see Dr. Meade tomorrow for his expert opinion?' Rhett asked semi-seriously.

'Well, by no means I am a doctor, but I am sure this will do – I have seen plenty of doctors stitch people up,' Scarlett said matter-of-factly.

'You don't mean to tell me that you have never done this before, Scarlett?' Rhett said, rather astonished.

Scarlett's mouth instantly revealed her glee.

'No, but it was nice to have you to practice on. Especially since it gave me the opportunity to return some of your own constant jabbing, Rhett,' she had to giggle over her own little joke and Rhett could not help but smile. The way she sat there on her knees, giggling, while her hair flowed freely over the back of her wrapper, and with her figure clad in nothing but a demure nightgown underneath, she looked so young and innocent. She looked so vulnerable. He felt a sudden rush of emotions and a strong urge to protect her. When she moved to get up, he quickly reached for her wrist.

She looked at the hand around her wrist, surprise evident in her features.

'Sit with me for a while, Scarlett.'

She looked uncertain. He was under the impression she was going to immediately deny him that pleasure, but something in his face must have told her that he had no ulterior motives.

'Please?' he added softly and she responded by nodding once and settling back on her knees next to him.

'Are you still in pain, Rhett? she said, while she gently pressed on the area around the newly stitched wound. He closed his eyes, but muttered that, no; he was no longer in pain. 'I just think this is a rare opportunity to see your bedside manner, so I thought I should make the most of it.' He gave her a crooked smile and despite herself she had to laugh.

'You are such a wretched thing, Rhett Butler,' she said good-humouredly. With the nurse duties successfully brought to an end she sighed deeply before she laid her hands idly in her lap, her initial reserve forgotten now.

'You don't know the half of it,' he said under his breath before he suddenly pulled her into his arms. She stiffened, but he did not give her much room to think. Swiftly he placed a kiss on her lips, while he flipped her over until it was she that was lying on her back on the thick rug. She looked at him questioningly and her fists pressed against his naked shoulders, but before she had the opportunity to protest, he continued his assault on her mouth. At first he simply enjoyed the feel of her warm mouth against his, but then he became aware of her body under him. His upper body hovered over hers while he stopped himself from crushing her by leaning on an elbow. This did not mean their bodies did not make contact, and feeling her softness pressing into his bare skin forced him to deepen his kiss.

With the tip of his tongue he pried her mouth open; gently at first, as if not to scare her, but when he was not met by too much resistance, he placed one large hand in her hair and brought her in for a more thorough exploration. She sighed under him and when her hands moved to the back of his neck, Rhett felt he was losing his composure, so he let both of them come up for air. Out of precaution he kept his eyes shut; he half expected her to remember her mother's teachings, and he would not have been surprised to feel her palm hit him with bruising force. But nothing of the sort happened and so he dared to open his eyes. To his surprise she was staring at him with wonder and confusion in her eyes, but also a hint of satisfaction and triumph.

Something started bubbling inside him; was a simple kiss all it would take? Was that all that was needed to convince her that it was him she really wanted?

'Oh, Rhett, I don't understand why I never realized this sooner,' she sighed, before she let one of her long fingers follow the strong outline of his jaw for a moment.

He made sure his face remained impassive and he hoped that his eyes did not reveal too clearly how much her words pleased him. He stayed silent, afraid to say or do the wrong thing. Afraid to stop her from declaring how much she needed him.

'Rhett,' she said, while she sat up. 'Why did you never tell me you care so much?'

Like a poker player who was called his bluff, Rhett only paused for a second before he started laughing. And he continued laughing until the cracks in Scarlett's self-assurance were evident.

'Stop laughing, you horrid man,' she fumed before she got up and walked to the other side of the room. 'You can deny it all you want, but no man can kiss a woman like that and not care for her,' she huffed, her back towards him.

'It strokes my vanity that I am the first man in your acquaintance that knows how kiss a woman properly. But then it is not the first time I have been told that I kiss very well.' He laughed softly while he got up and then he moved through the room until he stood by her side.

'Don't get me wrong, my pet. I found that kiss most enjoyable and I hate to crush your girlish beliefs but you should not read more into it than a testimony to your feminine allure. Then again; I have never made it a secret that I think you are an enchanting woman, so there is no need to act so surprised.' From the way she raised her head proudly, he knew that from all his remarks only the ones about her beauty had reached her ears.

He smiled and shook his head. Then he noticed how her wrapper had slipped from her shoulders, revealing a row of silky buttons below the frilly collar of her nightgown. He remembered a particular pleasant fantasy he'd had one night and swallowed hard.

'I won't deny a certain fondness of you, Scarlett,' he said softly, standing near her. 'But in any case it is _you_ that is not aware of her deep feelings for me.'

'Me!' she said, turning her head around to look at him. 'Don't flatter yourself, Rhett Butler,' she cried while turning her body away from him.

'Well, then tell me this, Scarlett. Why is it that every time I enter a room your eyes light up? Why is it always me that you seek out when we happen to be at the same gathering?' She started sputtering but he simply ignored her. Instead he moved closer, so that he could whisper in her ear. 'Why is it that whenever I stand close to you I can tell that you get nervous?'

'I don't get nervous!' Scarlett said indignantly.

'Oh yes, you do. You get all jittery, like you do now,' he said, inching closer to her. When he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, she shuddered slightly. 'Maybe it is you that is in love with me. Maybe it is you that is confused about her feelings,' he said. His words clearly infuriated her, much to his delight.

'That is enough, Rhett Butler. The idea that I should be in love with you is preposterous. I am afraid that the Yankees did more damage to you than one can tell on the outside. Clearly you must have also suffered a blow to the head.'

'That might certainly be a possibility, Scarlett,' he laughed. 'On the other hand, you can't deny that you enjoy my company. And I enjoy yours,' he added in a smooth voice.

'Now you are just being plain conceited,' Scarlett muttered, but when he bent his head and placed a kiss near her right ear, she let him. Rhett had intended to leave it at that, but when his ardour was not met by any resistance, he decided to linger a little while longer. The next kiss was closer to her mouth and he did not miss the way she pursed her lips after that, as if she was silently inviting him in for more.

He knew he risked a slap or worse, but he boldly took her chin between two of his fingers and bent her head ever so slightly until her red lips were in his reach. Scarlett leaned her little frame into his broad chest and for some reason she allowed him to kiss her like that for a long while. Of course greed soon took possession of him. However delightful her kisses, he wanted more. He wanted what always eluded him in his dreams. For a moment he wondered if this was an actual dream. Then again; it would not make sense to have dreams with obstacles like Uncle Peter present in them.

To advance slowly but surely he placed his hands on Scarlett's hips; through the thin layers of fabric he could feel their shape and he pressed his mouth harder on hers. She sighed and turned around in his arms, drawing him nearer by his shoulders. She moaned softly and he took this as an encouragement. One of his hands drifted up and just when he was about to cup one of her breasts, she stiffened and pulled away from him.

'Rhett, we shouldn't. I mean, Uncle Peter can walk in any minute...' He looked at her, a devilish smile on his face and he saw clear realization on hers. 'I mean we should not be doing this!' she hastened to correct herself. She tried to salvage her virtue by claiming that she had wanted none of his attentions but he only laughed at her embarrassment. It was very clear to him that her mind had already travelled further than that kiss.

'If I had more sense, I would have you thrown out, Rhett,' she continued, trying to look composed. 'As it is, I am willing to show my more charitable side with you wounded and all. So I will ask Cook to prepare you some tea, while I go upstairs and get dressed.'

'How very kind of you indeed, Mrs. Hamilton,' Rhett said, while he made an exaggerated bow. 'But you needn't trouble yourself; I will find my way back to my hotel quarters just fine now. Just let me make myself decent; we would not want any of the neighbours to spread vicious rumours now, would we?' He grinned at her, but she did not smile back.

His whole body still tingled with repressed desire for her, but he managed to act as carefree as ever when he started buttoning up his shirt. He did however notice that Scarlett followed his every move with great interest. She looked rather entranced.

By the time he had slid his jacket back on, she had walked over to the window. Hiding behind the parlour's lace curtains she stared outside, a sad expression on her face.

He was just about to say goodbye when suddenly a strangled sigh escaped her lips.

'Oh, Rhett, how I hate days like this. I will have to spend the rest of the day up in that dreadful room; it always makes me feel as if I am buried alongside Charles when I am stuck between those four walls,' she said miserably while she walked over to the settee and sat down on it.

Rhett frowned. She had not said as much but he nonetheless realised that she did not want to be alone. That she actually wanted him to stay, much against her better judgement he wagered to believe.

'You know that you can always get dressed and help Dr. Meade and the other ladies out at the hospital. I am not sure of how much assistance you would be, but I am sure somebody would appreciate your presence there; if I was a wounded soldier, I would.' He gave her a lopsided grin and Scarlett rolled her eyes at him.

'Oh, I could not stand being there today. It is bad enough on a normal day, but whenever such a large batch of freshly wounded arrive at the hospital, things get particularly dreary. There would be no room to talk to the men and all I would be doing are filthy things like delicing their hair and...'

'Ah yes, and a day spent without getting a man to fall in love with you is a day wasted, isn't it, my pet?' Rhett said lightly while he walked over to the settee and sat beside her.

'Don't you start with me, Rhett Butler! You have no idea how terrible it is to be stuck there every day,' she said, shifting slightly away from him, which was hardly possible since his big frame occupied more than half of the sofa.

'Oh, I am sure it is no fun at all. Hm, why don't you let me take you out for the day?'

'Oh, I could not do that! What would people say if they saw me riding around with you when I am supposed to help out in the hospital?'

Rhett shook his head.

'As I told you before: A reputation is nothing but a burden, but alas, I understand that we will have to amuse ourselves indoors instead.' He studied her slender fingers that had been brushing the ivory fabric of her dress in the last five minutes, making him relive the moments in which those hands had caressed the skin on his shoulders earlier that day. Then his eyes travelled up until they rested on the area where the dress floated most pleasantly around her unrestricted breasts.

'Rhett? Are you feeling alright? You have such a strange look in your eyes. You are not running a fever, are you?' she said, while she placed a hand his forehead. As if she had burned him, he took her hand and placed it back in her lap. The combination of her touch and the closeness of her body were too much for him.

'I am feeling fine, Scarlett,' he said in a deep voice but she did not seem to notice his discomfort. Instead she launched herself into a long speech on how much she hated it having to front like the grieving widow. He knew that he was the only person on earth that she could be honest with and so he listened patiently when she recounted the days before she became a widow and how much fun she used to have then.

'Surely you are getting your share of pleasure these days, my pet. With all the fundraiser dances and the many soldiers that angle for your attentions on a daily basis.'

'Oh yes, things are not as dreadful as they were when I first came to Atlanta, but what I would not give to have my old life back.' She sighed. Then her face changed and a little frown formed between her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

'Rhett, did you mean it when you told me that you are only fond of me and nothing more?' He looked at her, an amused grin on his face.

'Why is that so important to you, Scarlett? If you feel nothing but friendship for me like you say you do, I can't really understand why this would be of any concern to you.' He saw her pout a little at his remark. 'Or is it simply that you can't stand the fact that there is one man in your radius that is not besotted with you. Is it not enough for you that I testify to your charm, my pet? Is it really necessary to extract a love declaration of me too?'

'Well, no, but…' Scarlett said, while she crossed her bare little feet over each other. 'Well, you never seem to mind when I dance with one of the other boys, even though you are usually my escort on such occasions. It is really not nice of you that you do not show a little bit more possessiveness.'

'Would it please you if I did? Should I feign jealousy the next time you dance with a man that is not me, Scarlett?' She nodded her head profusely, clearly delighted simply by the idea alone.

'Well, I am afraid I can't do that,' he said and grinned when he saw her face fall immediately. 'You see, as you pointed out yourself most of your admirers are boys. I see no reason why I should feel threatened by any of them. As you so aptly realized earlier today: their kisses are mere child's play. I am sure their attentions thrill you, but only because you take it as proof that you have conquered their hearts, while my affections evoke feelings inside you that you never knew you possessed.'

Now it was Scarlett that appeared to be disturbed and she shifted away from him, but when her refuge was hindered by the settee's armrest, Rhett was quick to block any further attempts for escape. One of his long arms rested on the side of the couch while the rest of him hovered over her tiny frame.

'I think that if I kissed you now – and I mean _really_ kiss you, in the only manner I believe you should be kissed – you would not want me to stop.'

'I...I don't think I care for such personal conversation, Rhett,' Scarlett stuttered, but she made no move to get away from him.

'I think you do, Scarlett. I bet you find this kind of conversation quite riveting,' he said huskily, his mouth only inches above hers. She started taking small shallow breaths that made her chest come into contact with his every time she inhaled. He longed to make more intense contact with her but at the same time he enjoyed toying with her in this manner. He knew this could go either way; she could push him away, squeaking for help or she could listen to the call of her own body and unleash all that passion that she had been taught to restrain.

He silently prayed for the last, vivid images of his wildest dreams playing through his mind; creating a strain that was becoming impossible to bear. If Scarlett had the presence of mind to pay attention she could have seen it in the way the muscles in his arms started trembling.

The blush on her face intensified and for a moment she stared into his eyes. In the deep green depths he could see the battle that her mind was having with her heart; a battle between her mother's strict upbringing and her Irish roots that formed such an intrinsic part of her. Always a gambler, Rhett decided to place his bets and, with his hand on her back, he pushed her closer to his chest, bringing her cherry-red mouth within reach. The first kiss was feather light, but when she did not erupt in one of her usual stormy fits, he decided to taste her better. Soon they were involved in the kind of taunting and teasing that could only lead to one thing.

Rhett was as much lost in their kisses as Scarlett was, but he still had the presence of mind to realize that they had manoeuvred themselves in a rather cramped up position. So while he moved his mouth down her neck towards two of her most feminine attributes, he scanned the room, deciding that the thick rug would have to make do. And so he lifted her up, causing her to utter a cry of shock

'Rhett, your will hurt yourself again!'

'If I do, it will be worth it,' he whispered before placing her on rug.

He quickly caught her eye; she looked dazed and uncertain but certainly not angry or, worse, frightened. If he was a better man, he would cut this short now and walk out; but he had forgotten most of his own father's teachings and, besides, they were too far gone now. If he gave Scarlett too much time to think about it, his lethal charm and shiny trinkets would no longer gain him access to her home and ultimately her bed.  
And he did not want to stop this, God forbid; if this was another one of his crazy dreams, he was certain the levels of frustration would reach heights that would be unbearable even for a man like him.

He laid her down and while he tried to make himself more comfortable, she became impatient, reaching for him to come nearer. Her hair was dishevelled, unruly locks were covering her sweet face and so he used his fingers to brush them away. Her cheeks felt hot, he kissed the warm skin and she softly whispered his name.

He answered with a single smile.

He assessed the situation; her wrapper had fallen off her shoulders, it was now acting as a makeshift blanket underneath them, but the rest of her body was still modestly covered by the nightgown. Contrary to his dreams, in which the robe had formed a tantalizing piece of fabric, he now noticed the impracticality of the wretched thing. There was no way he could get if off her body now; if he asked her to stand up, the spell that they both were under might be broken. And so he had to find other ways.

Distracting her by softly nibbling her earlobe – something she seemed to find quite pleasant - he first took off his own shirt before he reached lower and caressed the small bones of her ankle. She did not protest so, while his mouth kept her occupied, he managed to make headway. To his delight he discovered she was ticklish when his fingers brushed the back of her knees. He quickly moved up; first he kneaded the flesh on her outer-tights and then he moved to give her inner-thighs the same treatment. The combination of his smooth yet firm caresses seemed to send her into frenzy. She let go of her last bit of reserve and pressed his face close to her chest. He was certain that she would put up no resistance if he took her now but he was not going to waste a moment of this opportunity, and so his fingers neglected that delicious part of her to move up higher.

The virginal gown was now hoisted up far enough for him to continue his exploits by gliding his hands underneath the fabric and touch her warm breasts; something he had longed to do ever since that day of the barbecue when her cleavage had given him such a charming hint of their beauty. Her breasts were of the firm softness that he always imagined and the way they felt in his hands almost pushed him over the edge a little bit too soon. Thank God for his self-control and praise the Lord too for Scarlett's total abandonment of that same control. She was inching into his touch now while her mouth let out sounds that told him not to stop what he was doing.

However, when she pulled up her knees and started rubbing her hips against him in a maddening way, his manhood – now incarcerated in a most uncomfortable manner – wanted to explore that last mysterious part of Scarlett's beautiful body.

He pulled her gown higher so that most of her body was exposed, then he started teasing her by touching one of her nipples; tender caresses were alternated by firm squeezes and he smiled when he saw her respond accordingly. Drinking in the beautiful sight of her, he quickly freed himself and then he stalled no longer but guided himself inside her. She let out a small cry and he decided not to be too greedy at once. Instead he let one of his fingers circle around the area that he was certain would help her in accepting more of him.

She looked at him, fear and uncertainty suddenly written all over her futures. Quickly he bend down over her and, without retreating, he whispered words of assurance to her. He reinforced his words with a few tender kisses and she gave him the best reward a man could have by opening up her mind and body to him.

For a long while his brain stopped functioning while his body answered the call of nature. Scarlett was sweeter than he could have ever imagined and he tried to make their coupling as comfortable for her as he could. He was determined to show her the kind of restraint that he imagined women of her kind expected of him and so he made love to her at a steady pace. Patiently waiting for his and her tension to build. But Rhett Butler was soon forced to readjust his ideas about women; Scarlett never uttered a word but after the initial hesitant beginning, it seemed that inside her a wild animal was awakened. And she started pulling at his body; scraping and squeezing his flesh in a way that told him that she wanted more. Needed more. More of his passion, more of anything he had on offer. This awakened something inside him; something that he tried to ignore at first; convinced that she did not know what she was asking for.

And then she put her little teeth in his shoulder and after that there was no stopping him. His hands gripped her hips pulling her nearer and then, while watching her skin showing an increasing flush, he started pounding on her with all the force he had in him. And she seemed to relish it. She bit her lower lip – he suspected in an attempt to keep herself from crying out – but muffled moans kept escaping her nonetheless. When she tightened around him and he knew that she was on the brink of giving herself completely to him, she had the presence of mind to put her own fist in her mouth to stop her cries from alerting the ever nosy servants. Seeing her so free and joyful was almost better than the actual possession of her body and it was without effort that he shortly followed her example.

During their entire play he had managed to keep his eyes open. He had the vague idea that if he closed his eyes he would find himself back at the National Hotel and that Scarlett's body would remain a secret to him. But now that he had felt her, seen her, experienced her beauty in the ultimate way he forgot about his resolution, and while he let himself crash on the floor next to her, he closed his eyes, a satisfied smile on his face.

The next morning Rhett Butler had just finished his grooming; his moustache was neatly clipped, his jaw freshly shaved and his features today looked remarkably relaxed. He grinned at his own image in the mirror while he put his arms through the sleeves of a clean shirt.

He took a look at the scar that was forming on his belly; every day it became less visible – Dr. Meade had done an excellent job - and he knew that in time it would blend neatly with the rest of his swarthy skin. Today he would leave Atlanta to meet his men who were waiting on his ship. He was ready for another blockading run; he would continue until it became too dangerous to undertake such adventures. He had no intention of losing his life anytime soon. Especially now that the town of Atlanta held one particular fascination for him. He had a hard time shaking the things he'd experienced last night. Real or not, now that he knew what a woman like Scarlett could give him, he was not going to rest until those green eyes told him that there was no man on earth whose kisses and caresses she wanted more.

Once he was fully dressed, he called the bellboy to take his trunk downstairs. He had one long last glance around the room, letting his eyes linger on the bed a while longer; would Scarlett's shapely body be lying in it the next time he visited? Then he smiled a confident smile and placed his panama hat on his head. He closed the door behind him and strode through the hallway whistling the tune that Scarlett had sung to him while they danced at the Bazaar.

THE END


End file.
